Blue Shirt

Girl Blue shirt She never wore anything else She is sitting alone. Always Not because she doesn’t have friends, but because she chooses to. She studies in an empty classroom, while the rest of us mingle in the hallways, exhausting our voice boxes. I have to look away so she doesn’t rub off on me She is pretty. But doesn’t smile and wears that same blue shirt Everyday. Lunchtime, I watch her hastily make a sandwich and walk out of the room I wonder where she takes it, where she dwells alone, while everyone is together. Time, Everyone takes it, going from class to class. Running into friends along the way, having two minute conversations with each. She walks ahead of everyone, determined to arrive at class before anyone else To make a good impression on the teacher? No one knows why. Nor do they care. So if I do not care, then why am I wasting my time thinking about her Discipline She does not need a mother, or a father, or anyone telling her what to do. She does everything herself. But if she is never told what to do, how will she know when to stop? She will continue torturing herself for as long as she lives That is, if she is living… Life What is a life, where all you do is work, and pull out all the strands of your hair? She doesn’t know how to talk to people her own age She can bat her eyelashes at an adult, but cannot waste a second smiling at a friend Most can be seen obsessively writing to their friends She uses her instant message only to ask about work. I gladly answer her and then she tells me she has to go. I do what I always do when I say goodbye, xoxo She just writes “bye”.

Boy In our class He goes by the name of Samm but he spells it with two m’s just to be unique, he claims. Stupid Samm is what he is known as. He doesn’t do his work And when he does, it is never on time His test scores are low But through my observant eyes, he is brilliant. I look over his shoulder and watch him draw, intricate designs and images in his notebook, poems in the margins of his textbook. He is a loyal friend who can laugh at his own faults. Something many of us cannot do. Take the girl in the blue shirt, and the doodling boy and ask anyone who is smarter. Everyone would say the girl in the blue shirt. But if all she can trust are the grades she receives, how will she ever survive in a grade-less world Samm will then be on top and she will be sitting alone once again, waiting for a little red A+ to fall in her lap. How do you lead your own life, if you need to be constantly being told by a red pen that you are smart.

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